Chapter 134: Master Bai’s Smoke and Mirrors

As time slowly trickled away, while the two figures and the single bird inside the bronze palace were still hurrying along their path, a scandalous and widely condemned incident was unfolding in another place.

"You stinky brat, don't you run!"
"Damn it, stop right there for your father!"
"Brothers, keep going, we're almost catching up to that bastard! When we catch him, we'll slice him into a thousand pieces, hang his corpse from the city gates to be whipped, and then leave his remains exposed in the wilderness."

These men wore rather peculiar clothing. Though dressed uniformly in yellow garments, they all bared one of their shoulders. Given that the season was already the dead of winter, regardless of how they were layered, not only were their shoulders bare, but they also wore cropped trousers that exposed their calves. Even if they themselves didn't feel cold, merely looking at them made others shiver with frost.

These men belonged to a small mercenary group under the jurisdiction of the Wusha Sect, known as the Drifting Sand Mercenaries.

The person they were hunting down was a young fellow. However, this individual was draped from head to toe in fine silks and satins. While a normal person would wear at most two or three jade pendants and sashes at their waist, this fellow didn't hesitate to strap on an entire beltful. The jangling collision of the jade pendants—sounds that should have been soft and melodious—became gratingly noisy due to the sheer excess. Even the ribbons binding his hair were embedded with shimmering, luminous gemstones. Moreover, the pair of shoes he wore were engraved with magical patterns designed to reduce fatigue and make walking lighter. For an ordinary person, such attire would naturally appear tasteful and refined without excess, hitting just the right balance. But as for the fellow right before them, running while shouting at the top of his lungs with his hair disheveled in the wind, he gave off the impression that he was desperately eager to flaunt every single treasure he owned all at once, as if shouting to the world: "Look at the massive gemstone on my head, it’s going to blind your twenty-four-karat dog eyes! Look at the pendants at my waist, they're heavy enough to crush you to death!"

Such behavior was indistinguishable from provoking the wrath of those "wealth-hating" individuals, inciting even more fierce curses—yet the more they cursed, the more he flaunted.

The young man turned his head to glance at the billowing dust and the numerous figures pursuing him. Filled with righteous indignation, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Damn you lot, a bunch of green-eyed monsters! You're nothing but robbers, coveting my—Master Bai's—wealth, coveting my—Master Bai's—splendid attire, coveting my—Master Bai's—beau... cough."

The fellow who kept claiming to be "Master Bai" almost made a slip of the tongue, nearly bragging about his looks just like a woman would.

The pursuers lagging behind also heard the young man sprinting ahead refer to himself as "Master Bai" and righteously accuse them of injustice, implying that they were chasing him out of pure greed. To anyone listening with intent, such brazen arrogance in broad daylight was simply beyond toleration.

Why was this said? Because everything worn by this fellow who called himself "Master Bai" had actually been stolen from the very men chasing him behind. Just look at the number of pursuers trailing him—no less than twenty or thirty people—and their objective was remarkably uniform: they were all victims whose treasures had been targeted and stolen.

In truth, this man who styled himself "Master Bai, Curer of All Wealth" could be considered as performing a righteous act by stealing from these people. The riches these mercenaries possessed had all been acquired by bullying the weak and abusing the power of others. Therefore, Master Bai's deeds of punishing the wicked, eliminating evil, and robbing the rich to give to the poor had won him the praise and gratitude of those who had been oppressed.

However, from the perspective of the victims, this was utterly unacceptable. If word of this were to spread far and wide, men like them would undoubtedly be openly reviled and very likely face harsh sanctions. Such a life-threatening matter was something this group could never allow.

Consequently, whether along the main roads, among the mountain ravines and forests, or inside bustling markets, the spectacle of a mob chasing a lone runner became a favorite topic of conversation for onlookers over tea and meals. Naturally, when some individuals learned of the truth, they attempted to step in out of a sense of justice; yet, upon realizing the overwhelming disparity in numbers, they had no choice but to back down, seeing no reason to court such trouble.

Thus, the tale of this chase spread rapidly from ten to a hundred, and from a hundred to a thousand.

Because these events all took place within the territory belonging to the Wusha Sect, Wusha Sect disciples dispatched on external missions also caught wind of these rumors. Word had it that someone was running amok and swindling people everywhere under the guise of Senior Brother Bai, the personal disciple of the sect's Grand Elder. This matter was swiftly reported to the higher-ups of the sect.

The first to learn of it was naturally Grand Elder Wu Yunque. At first, he thought he must have misheard, believing that Bai Qi was still alive. His frame, which had grown much gaunt over many days, had suddenly experienced a miraculous recovery upon hearing this "good news." But after listening carefully to the detailed explanations given by the outer sect disciples (as tasks like purchasing supplies outside the mountain were generally handled by outer sect disciples), that wave of disappointment caused his once-bright eyes to dim once more, and he slumped powerlessly back into his chair.

After a long while, seeing that the Grand Elder remained silent, the disciples dared not say more and prepared to withdraw. Just as they lifted their feet to leave, they heard that previously faint and elusive voice suddenly deepen. A bone-chilling murderous intent permeated the room, turning the cozy warmth of the winter day into freezing frost. Terrified, the reporting disciples hurriedly dropped to their knees, pressing their faces against the floor to respectfully await the decree.

Wu Yunque said coldly, "Hear my command! Issue a Earth-Grade Bounty for this imposter who dares impersonate a disciple of my Wusha Sect! I want to see a living person, or a dead corpse!" The words had barely faded before those disciples were "blown" out of the door by a wave of Wu Yunque's sleeve.

Knowing that the fellow impersonating the Grand Elder's personal disciple was surely doomed, the men wasted no time in notifying disciples of all branches within the outer sect as well as the Hall of Enforcers.

In an instant, the entire Wusha Sect buzzed with frantic activity. The majesty of a major sect and its inviolable tyranny swept forth like a violent gale, heavy and oppressive as dark clouds gathering to crush a city.

Meanwhile, in a forest a thousand miles away from the Wusha Sect, a man sat quietly on a thick tree branch, gazing into the distance. A blade of grass hung from the corner of his lips, which curved upward in a deeply smug expression. He muttered to himself, "Ah, not bad, not bad. By using this ruse to stir up the entire sphere of influence in the Drifting Sand Mountains, hehe, when the time comes, those people from the Eight Desolations and Nine Provinces will naturally dispatch a portion of their manpower here to stir things up as well. By then, when the Bronze Palace rises, this handsome fellow can openly take what rightfully belongs to me. Ahem, keep it low profile, keep it low profile."

The person muttering to himself was none other than the "Master Bai" who had been chased by the mob earlier. Looking closely now, the man's profound eyes bore none of the youthful vigor one would expect, but instead resembled those of an ancient monster who had lived through countless ages.

Looking at his person once more, the jade pendants and the gemstones embedded in his robe hems that had been accidentally lost during the chase had vanished. Yet, this fellow showed not a shred of worry. He casually retrieved from his storage bag yet another massive pile of pearls, agates, fine silks, and satins. Standing up atop the treetop, he executed a graceful spin, and all those treasures instantly donned themselves upon him once more, glittering dazzlingly. His previous disheveled appearance was instantly transformed into one that was neat, crisp, and dripping with opulent wealth—the epitome of an unadulterated nouveau riche.